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As often happens with these sort of stories, the evening started out with a few friends getting together and ended up with someone's stomach getting pumped. Unfortunately, it was our family dog's.
I was home from college and agreed to babysit for Michael for the night. My parents were going out of town for the weekend. Michael had asked if he could have a few friends over. Since I was already bending the rules myself by taking remote call from my friend Erin's house in Springfield, I thought I'd let it slide. Michael invited two friends over to watch movies. I gave him Erin's phone number and told him I was only 20 minutes away having dinner if he needed me. I never expected a call.
Michael sounded shaken. He told me I had to come home right away. Our dog, Mishka, had tried to walk through the screen door and had stepped into her water bowl several times. She needed to go to the vet and Michael didn't have his license yet. When I got home, Michael had a little more information. It seems that one of the boys had brought No-doze in his duffel bag. That wouldn't have been a problem, except that the bag also held a jumbo pack of chewing gum.
Mishka loved gum
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The dilemma: I had to take the dog to the vet, but didn't trust the truants to be there when I got back. The solution: My parents have a security system. I armed the system with the boys inside the house and told them not to leave. I warned them if they tried to open the doors the police would come (No-doze boy's dad was a police officer). I did tell them that they could open the door only if the house was burning down. Looking back on it, I probably shouldn't have planted that idea.
Well, Mishka was fine. The vet shaved her paw, started an IV and pumped her stomach. They kept her overnight for observation. All I could think about was explaining the shaved paw and the vet bill. I was dreading my parents' return...
But not as much as some others regretted mine. I told Mr. No ( I seriously can't remember his name) that I was going to have to call his Dad the next day. He nodded, a glazed, panicky look in his eye.
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The next day I called his house and was suprised to hear him on the other end of the line. I asked to speak to his father. A husky sounding preteen came to the phone and assured me that he was VERY disappointed in his son and that he would be punished. I apologized that I didn't believe I was talking to the officer and that I would call back later. He persisted, but we finally said our goodbyes. The phone rang 5 minutes later with an apology from the offender who had enlisted his older brother's help.
I guess that's what siblings are for.
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